Every Minute of Every Day
by Ruan Chun Xian
Summary: Chapter 1, Fitz: He didn't remember when they became Fitzsimmons, he only knew that every minute of ever day since then had been theirs, and he would not let go. Chapter 2, Simmons: No one ever warns you about sacrifices you would have to make one day.
1. Fitz

_**Fitz**_

He couldn't remember when their names had begun to fit together so seamlessly, or who was the first to call them that. All he knew was that there was a chance – a _very good chance _– that tomorrow, the name would never have the same meaning again.

Fitzsimmons.

No, if they couldn't fix this, there would be no Fitzsimmons. There would only be Fitz…too short a name, always waiting for the better half, the half that made them complete, that made them _Fitzsimmons. _

As he stood there, separated from her by glass thin enough to hear through, he wondered how long it would take for people from Fury down to Skye to break the habit of the name Fitzsimmons, and how much it would hurt, if he would never again have her answer echo his, never feel the brush of her ponytail on his shoulder as she turned her head just a bit ahead out of sync with him, only then to see the reaction of whoever was addressing him (them) when they realised that there was no Fitzsimmons.

Even if they could cease with the name right away, Leo was sure, he would always stop for a beat, expecting the two extra syllables to follow. How much would it hurt, when _he _would have to realise they would never come?

It wasn't just their joined name that would remain incomplete. His sentences, too, would forever be hanging, waiting for Jemma to break in excitedly to finish them. Who would meet his overexcited, gushing theory when faced with a new piece of alien tech? Who could? On this plane, perhaps on this entire planet, there was only her.

Could he ever sound excited again, when it would be that alien tech which excited them both, that took – was taking – takes (he didn't know the tense anymore) her away?

The truth was, as pathetic as it sounded, as bordering on unhealthy as it was, he no longer knew how to be just Fitz. He stared as she broke eye contact and turned away, retreating into the lab again. She looked so very small, so very lonely in the middle of all their genius. Most of the things in that lab were their lives' work. _Theirs. Theirs. _It was _always_ theirs. Jemma and Leo. Fitz and Simmons. Fitzsimmons.

How small and lonely would Fitz feel then, to be in that lab alone, a space which would be too empty and too silent without her? He didn't think he knew how to work anymore, without maneuvering around her lab rats and decaying things-unknown. Just imagining it now overwhelmed him with how excruciatingly unbearable it would be, if the silence of the lab were to press in on him from all sides, unbroken by her occasional giddy exclamations of progress or absent-minded humming.

_ "You have to fix this," _he told her, because it was true. She was the only person capable of fixing this, and he would believe that. He would believe that because the alternative was impossible.

"There's no one to create an anti-serum from, except…"

Their eyes met, distorted through the haze of tears and the glass door, and like so many moments of their lives together before, understanding sparked off them both and kindled in their hearts. It started muted this time, because, for a moment, neither of them dared to think that they had found their answer. Yet as always, the spark built into a flame as science gave them what they had always depended on it to give: explanation, logic, sense and understanding, all gathering into a roaring hope.

He didn't think he remembered the dash up the stairs to grab the box with the helmet. He only knew that a moment later, he was in the lab again, looking at her, both standing beside their next puzzle to solve.

It was as it should be. This was where he belonged, not sitting helpless outside with his back against hers through a glass door, the two of them trying to solve two halves of the same puzzle separately. This was their domain, their mystery to crack, their problem to solve.

Theirs, _always_ theirs.

And they would fix this, the way they always do everything.

Together.


	2. Simmons

**_Simmons_**

For one golden moment, they had done it. The giddy rush of pride rushed through her again to know that, once again, she and Fitz had found the answer. In that moment, she didn't even think about the fact that her life was depended on this solution they just found. It was the utter joy of discovery, of accomplishment. Fitz and Simmons, once again victorious over some seemingly unanswerable question, through the sheer power of their combined brains and seamless understanding of each other that enabled them to work together as one.

Or so it seemed, anyway.

Then in a literal flash of light, the moment ended.

In that instant, the crushing weight of truth came down on her. There was no more hope. She was done. She should be terrified. She _was _terrified.

In her fear, she saw clearly the way Ward stiffened his pose outside the lab and guessed that his fists had clenched behind him, though his face was impassive as ever. She thought she saw a flicker on change pass through May, and Coulson's eyes darted to her in the briefest glance before he looked away. She saw the relief which bloomed for just a moment on Skye's face fall away, and made way for unreserved pain, which Jemma wished she had more time to contemplate and appreciate.

Yet what hurt most was the way Fitz's features had become eerily calm.

She had come to know the many moods of Leo Fitz over the years, had become privy to all. Fitz was timid, was snarky, was bubbly like an over-excited two-year-old constantly on a sugar high when presented with new knowledge, and was absolutely and mind-numbingly brilliant, the only person, she dared say, who could match her in intellect as well as in temperament.

He wore his heart on his sleeves and rarely had she ever seen his feature as carefully blank as Ward like this moment. It was his soft, uncontrolled exhaled breath of pain ("No…") that betrayed how he must understand as well as her that this was the end.

He would not give up, however. This, she knew, and it gave her with an unexpected rush of all the affection she had ever felt for him. However, she also knew, as he surely was trying to deny, that there was nothing else to do. She would not be the one to tell him this, though. He was carefully avoiding looking her in the eye even as he turned her way. Perhaps he would not be able to keep the truth at bay if he looked at her, she did not know. If she could keep the pain away from him for just a few more seconds, then she would. So she let him brush past her back to the microscope continue the work, the hopeless work, while she approached the door and stood before Coulson instead.

She willed her voice not to shake, but it did not work. For the first time in her life, she found herself wondering if she should regret the career path she had chosen for herself. She had done everything too fast, too early, and that included leaving the loving arms of her family to chase after answers and knowledge and the unknown for which she always craved understanding. In a blur of accelerated academic programs and fast-tracked degrees, she was too soon ensconced in a world of pristine lab coats and jargons of five syllables. The giddy satisfaction of her work sometimes made her wonder if she had always been little more than a child dropped into a playpen full of shiny new toys and told to make magic with them.

Who knew how many oceans away from her family that child was now? For such a long time, it felt as if her work, and now her team, was her family. She talked to her parents often – or as often as she could now that she was all over the place in the field – but when was the last time she had actually seen them, face-to-face, close enough to touch?

No one warns you about sacrifices like this in life, she finally realised. No one warns you about moments like this, either, when you stand on the brink of life and death, and have to make a decision, to protect your family at home as much as possible from the heart break that would come, to protect your teammates who were now your family, from yourself.

After the rest of the team left to go upstairs, she turned slowly to Fitz, who was determinedly not looking at her. His voice was determined to be calm, and if it shook, only she knew him well enough to recognise it.

This was Fitz, _her _Fitz, the Fitz she knew and loved, so completely focused on an impossible problem. Only now, the concentration was amped up a thousand times, because he was determined to save her, despite the fact that perhaps he could not be her saviour. He would try, and she loved him for it.

If there was a moment for a heart-to-heart, a moment to tell him all that she owed him, perhaps it was now. But he knew, she thought, he always knew.

So she only smiled when he finally deigned to call it the anti-serum, knowing that what she was about to do was the only choice…if they would not let her go, she would let them go, Fitz with them.

They had always done everything together, but this was the moment when that ended, because the world needed Leo Fitz, and she would make sure Fitz was not taken from the world.

She knew the blow was not hard enough to even knock Fitz unconscious, but it was enough to give her time to leave the lab and open the cargo hold. She stood, for a terrified moment, looking out at the stretch of wispy clouds laced through clear blue sky, and wondered if it would be cold to fall, and fall…through it…

Scientifically, she knew it would be, and the ocean beneath her even colder. Just once, however, she allowed herself to do away with facts, and imagine that it would be warm and freeing, knowing that this was a worthy sacrifice.

She looked back towards the lab. If there was one last sight she wished to see, it was Fitz in their lab, and for a moment, perhaps she could imagine that she was in there with him and that nothing was wrong…that everything was all right…if only he was not screaming her name…

As she tipped back and gave herself to that stretch of white and blue, she whispered words she knew he would never hear.

"I'm sorry, Leo."

**_End (really the end this time)_**

* * *

_A/N: To be honest, I don't really ship Fitzsimmons romantically, they are more BROTP to me, but I guess you can take this however you want. There was definitely romantic undertones to the entire episode that sort of made it all over the pla__ce in terms of ships_**_.  
_**


End file.
